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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25942234">The Man Who Fell to Earth</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papallion/pseuds/Papallion'>Papallion</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Keep it Together - Collected Sigma Fics [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Overwatch (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Autistic Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper, Blind Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Hunted, Injury Recovery, M/M, Missions Gone Wrong, Mistaken Identity, Sigma has a Bad Day, Surgery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:29:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,386</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25942234</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papallion/pseuds/Papallion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Siebren goes on a mission, but it doesn't go according to plan and he gets separated from the others.  Can he keep it together long enough to return home?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper/Reinhardt Wilhelm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Keep it Together - Collected Sigma Fics [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1864225</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Here Today, Gone Tomorrow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Siebren glided to his seat and sat down, then gave an irritated grunt.  His massive gear would not fit the seat, and he leaned forward.  The barrier generators were powered down and compressed, but the battery and computer on the back were too large for the indention Torbjörn had designed into his seat.</p><p>“Didja go an’ mess with your pack again?” the Swede asked as he stepped on Baptiste’s seat.  “You changed the frame.”</p><p>“Junior and I were adjusting the power conduits, and I could have sworn the alterations were within the parameters,”  Siebren muttered.  He reached up and gripped one of his barrier generators.  “Fabrication was never my forte.”</p><p>Torbjörn shooed him away and rotated his mechanical arm.  After a moment the claw altered shape, parts of the grasping end folding in on itself, and he gripped a screw on the side of Siebren’s chair.  “Ya must have put in that power cycler and circuit breaker to fix the feedback when the dang thing shatters.  I keep tellin’ ya to pull it back and refresh it, but no, you gotta get all wild and gung ho and hit people with it.”</p><p>Torbjörn pulled the padding of the chair off and flung it aside.  “There, it’ll be a bumpy ride, but you’ll fit, Bren.  Sit down, Lena ain’t waiting much longer.”</p><p>“Dank u, Torbjörn.”  Siebren settled, and his pack and shoulders clicked against the wall.  He strapped his shins down to keep his feet in place, and then his lap belt.</p><p>“I told you to knock the formalities off,” Torbjörn muttered as he made her way to his own seat.</p><p>Baptiste dusted Torbjörn's footprint off of his seat off and sat down.</p><p>“Shoes, Sigma,” Morrison muttered as he stomped by.  He took his seat and strapped in.  </p><p>“I don’t walk, why do I need them?” Siebren asked back.</p><p>“Stray bullets,” McCree offered as he sat down.</p><p>“Bugs,” Junkrat offered as he flopped down.  “Drop bears, mate, drop bears.”</p><p>Roadhog dropped in his seat and nodded.  “Fire,” he muttered.  He ignored Junkrat’s squawks as he strapped the blond in.</p><p>Echo floated to her seat and sat down.  “Your feet are right about Torby’s hair height, and it looks ticklish!”  She nodded.  “And you might get hit by shrapnel.”</p><p>“Keep your feet out of my hair, de Kuiper.”  Torbjörn strapped himself in, and Lena shut the bay doors.</p><p>“Can we at least try one mission with shoes and protective headgear?” Morrison asked.</p><p>Siebren mused a little bit.</p><p>“And if you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it again.  You know Winston worries about you getting hurt out there.”  He knew how Winston fussed over Siebren.  Morrison gestured to the removed seat padding.  “Besides, the helmet will keep your head from bouncing against the wall.”</p><p>Siebren nodded and sighed.  “I suppose one must experiment before proclaiming results?” he mused, and undid his shin straps.  He hauled the boots on and then the helmet, pulling down and twisting it slightly to lock it in place, but he didn't pull down the face plate yet.</p><p>“You know, we need to test something,” Baptiste said with a grin.  He suddenly reached over and lightly shoved Siebren’s head.</p><p>The helmet made a pleasant tapping noise as it hit the wall.</p><p>“Yeah, but can you duplicate the results?” Torbjörn asked.</p><p>When Baptiste lifted his hand, Siebren caught his wrist.  “Doesn’t look like it.”</p><p>“Do not commit acts of science on me,” Siebren said in a tone that made Baptiste doubt he was joking.</p><p>“That’s what Rat is for,” Roadhog huffed.</p><p>Once the laughter died down Morrison hauled his mask on and snapped everything into place.  “OK, people, here’s the plan.  We drop myself, Rat, Hog, and McCree, we’re going to work on corralling Null Sector while Baptiste doesn’t let anyone die.”</p><p>“Oh, super easy,” Baptiste said with a sign.  “I thought you were giving me a hard job.”</p><p>“Watch the salt, I gotta get my blood pressure down.  Echo, you get Torby behind lines to that control tower and take it down.  Sigma, you’re air support.  Watch our back, be prepared for extraction.”</p><p>Junkrat gave a giddy laugh and tapped his fingertips together.  “Oh, I DO like extraction!” he giggled.  “It’s better than a carnival ride!”</p><p>“Safer, too!” Echo said.</p><p>Sigma let his mind wander while Soldier: 76 ran down a battle plan.  He always heard the music clearer when he was away from the ground; sometimes the thrum of the Earth would drown the song of the sky.  He sat in his seat humming to himself, but he wasn’t aware of how loud he was getting until Baptiste smacked his arm.</p><p>“Siebren!” he said in a warning tone, and Siebren opened his eyes.</p><p>Everyone was looking at him, and he looked as his arms.</p><p>“Hm?  Ah, yes, I apologize.”  He had been conducting again.  Siebren flushed a little as he tucked his hands into his lap.</p><p>“You back with us?” Soldier: 76 asked.  “Remember your job?”</p><p>“I’m on defense, I’m to worry about blocking the larger omnics and removing obstacles,” he said in a firm tone, and Soldier: 76 nodded.  “Echo will watch troop movement.”  It was the same as the last mission.</p><p>The old soldier nodded at him.  “Thank you for paying attention.”</p><p>Siebren had not been paying attention, and he knew a subtle scolding when he heard one.  It irritated him to be treated so, but at the same time, Soldier: 76 treated everyone the same.  Sigma was part of a team now.</p><p>“Nearing destination!” Tracer chirped over the intercom, and everyone stood up.  Echo lashed Torbjörn to her chest with a harness, the others quickly spat plans out at each other, and Sigma took a deep breath.  “Bay doors opening in five, four, three, two, one, bombs away!”</p><p>“Here we go again!” McCree sighed as Sigma extended his reach.</p><p>Sigma always knew where the sun was, where the moon was, and where Jupiter and Saturn were.  He could hear the beating of the sun and the humming of the earth and the soft sigh of the moon.</p><p>He could hear people.</p><p>People didn’t have music, not like on the radio, but it’s what he called it.  They had rhythms and pulses and beats, and sometimes static and sometimes chords.</p><p>Soldier: 76 was solid and deep and structured like a heartbeat.  McCree reminded him of strings and a wandering bass, with an odd whistle from time to time.  Junkrat fluttered, like Sasha from Peter and the Wolf, while Roadhog was deep brass and ancient percussion.  Baptiste stood out as lilting jazz, méringue lente, and modern beats.  Nearby he could hear the steady heavy rock of Torbjörn and the cheerful static of Echo.  He reached further and felt the frantic static of Tracer.</p><p>“Ladies first,” he said quietly, and Echo waved with one hand pretended to plug her nose with the other.  Sigma smiled softly as she and Torbjörn leaped from the Orca II.  </p><p>The others clustered around him, waiting.</p><p>“Gentlemen?” he asked and snapped his face plate into place.</p><p>That was the only warning they got before Sigma collected them in his gravitational field and remained still.</p><p>They didn’t leave the Orca II, the Orca II moved on without them.  They hovered for a little, Junkrat clinging to Roadhog’s arm and McCree with one hand on his hat, slowly rotating around him.  Sigma hummed a little as he scanned his surroundings, getting a bearing on their location.</p><p>“That would be the warehouse,” he muttered, and Soldier: 76 pointed.</p><p>“There, that red roof, that’s our landmark,” he barked.</p><p>“Understood.”  Sigma leaned forward, and the others followed.  They glided down, not as fast as Sigma liked, but the others weren't used to free fall.  He activated his barrier generators and shoved his fear back into his gut where it belonged for now.</p><p>Soldier: 76 reached forward and took Sigma’s hand; it was the best way to get his attention at times like this.  “Drop Hog and I off at the intersection with the roundabout, and the others off a bit behind.”  Soldier: 76 let go and fell back.</p><p>“Acknowledged.”  They continued to fall, and all too quickly were close enough for landing maneuvers.  </p><p>Roadhog reached out and gripped Soldier: 76, tucking him into his chest.  </p><p>Sigma concentrated then grabbed their orbit and flung them forward with a gesture and a shout.  He kept his hand out, focusing, and crafted a hypersphere.  It followed after the pair, and before hitting the ground, Sigma activated it.</p><p>Their fall was slowed, and Roadhog tucked and rolled.  He dropped the old soldier on the second rotation and hauled out his hook, ready to strike.</p><p>“I’m trusting you, Doctor Gravity!” Junkrat said.  “PULL!”</p><p>At one point the others had irritated him with their use of nicknames, but they had all come to an understanding.  ‘Sigma’ based nicknames were not welcome, but some others were.  “I appreciate it.”  Sigma flung the others forward, slowed their falls, then brought up the rear.  His ankle sensors chirped to let him know he was a few feet from the ground, and he centered himself.</p><p>He had to erect a barrier almost instantly and swing to the side to avoid a barrage of bullets.</p><p>Things were mostly a blur after that; Sigma let his instincts take over as people barked orders and commands around him.  It was terrifying to him how quickly he slid back into the non-personality of Subject: Sigma.</p><p>He was commanded and he obeyed.</p><p>His team moved and he followed.</p><p>Enemies were spotted and enemies were eliminated.</p><p>His online computer spat updates and Subject: Sigma announced updates.</p><p>Siebren de Kuiper was a small voice in his head, a passenger to the violence Subject: Sigma was capable of.  He could feel gravity coalesce and compress an omnic, and when another got too close he simply lifted it high into the air and slammed it into the ground.</p><p>“Pull back, pull back!” Soldier: 76 was shouting.  “Sigma, cover us!”</p><p>Sigma forced himself to blink and collect his barrier, then redirect it to cover his friends.  He suddenly realized Echo was there, interlocking her own version of the barrier with his.</p><p>“What, what’s going on?” he hissed, slightly confused and very nervous.  Was he not paying attention?  He hadn’t been paying attention again.</p><p>“Something big is coming, maybe a titan!” Echo hissed back.  She understood he was sleepwalking again.  </p><p>The soldier hated it when he sleepwalked through combat.  It was dangerous not to have full awareness of a battle, but sometimes Siebren had to pull back.</p><p>Some omnics screamed, and he had to pull back.</p><p>Some buildings groaned, and he had to pull back.</p><p>He was ordered to attack, and he had to pull back.</p><p>The others were ducking into a nearby building, and Sigma prepared to follow them.  All around him a sound built, though, something high-pitched and fluctuating in tone.</p><p>“Sigma, get to cover!” Soldier: 76 snapped in his communicator, and Siebren covered his ears.  “Bren, now!”</p><p>Siebren lifted himself up and looked around.  “Something is wrong,” he snapped, and closed his eyes.  “This isn't a normal sound!”</p><p>“Hog?” Soldier: 76 asked, and Roadhog stepped forward.</p><p>Roadhog nodded and twisted the handle of his hook, retracted the spurs, and stepped onto the street. He swung the hook, aiming for Sigma's thighs so he could haul him in like a lost balloon.</p><p>Siebren listened.  He extended his reach and exhaled, and lifted his hands. </p><p>He plucked gravity and waited for the response.</p><p>He turned, slid away from Roadhog’s hook, and directed his barrier at the ground.</p><p>The energy blast was deflected at an angle back into the ground, but the barrier wouldn’t hold long.  </p><p>“Echo, Echo I need you!” he shouted, and suddenly she was there, supporting him.  Together they kept the energy blast from the buildings, but the entire street began to moan as it started to dissolve.</p><p>The energy blast suddenly stopped, and Echo and Sigma pulled back.</p><p>The omnic worm was a surprise.</p><p>It erupted from the hole and gripped Echo by the leg and gave her a violent shake, and she cried out as it flung her around.</p><p>A second worm shot forward, and Sigma concentrated.</p><p>He knew it was silly to name his attacks like he was in a kung fu movie, but he thought 'Kinetic Grasp' had a nice ring to it.  He was able to craft a gravitic charge and absorb matter, and the resulting energy breakdown powered his barrier generators for a few moments.  It let him ‘eat’ objects like arrows and munitions shot at him, but it did have its limits.</p><p>A giant omnic word thrusting itself at him at highway speeds was one of them.  It opened its maw and hit him with a compression wave, and Sigma’s barrier shattered.  </p><p>He jerked backwards, the barrier generators on his shoulders whirring as they reset, and a second compression wave struck him.</p><p>He was knocked backwards in a building before crashing face-first to the street.</p><p>When Angela had first told him she couldn’t remove all of the cybernetics augmenting his neck and spine he had been furious.  He wanted his bodily autonomy back!  He didn’t want all of this invasive shit inside of him!</p><p>He was, perversely, glad for them right now.</p><p>The impact would have killed someone else.</p><p>His barrier generators and battery pack whirred and sparked at him, creating noises that he would most likely be the only one to hear.  Sigma hauled his arms under him and groaned as he tried to push himself up.  His ears were ringing and his vision was blurry, but he was aware of the bright blur and static that was Echo reaching for him.</p><p>She gripped him by his waist and shot straight up, trying to evade the worm, but both heads reached forward and snapped them up.  One of them gripped Sigma’s right barrier generator and the other Echo’s wing, and Sigma heard a cracking sound.</p><p>Echo screamed as her wing shattered, and his barrier generator cracked.</p><p>He wasn’t sure exactly what happened, but he reached towards the omnic worms and focused all his anger into them.</p><p>His vision blurred as the worm holding Echo crumpled in on themselves.  At the same time he tried to pull back, but the worm held tight to his generator.  Sigma let out a bellow and something ripped, and the worm holding him fragmented, splintered, and collapsed.</p><p>As it let go he shot upwards, his anger making his escape velocity too strong, and he accidentally flung himself away from the scene.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Blackout</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Siebren didn’t know where he was when he woke up.</p><p>He had a vague memory of falling, and now waking up.  He groaned and pushed himself up, and his armor cracked around him.  He sighed as the gold plating Reinhardt installed flaked away, and looked around.  He was sitting in a crater several meters across, and it looked to be evening time.  It was afternoon when they started the mission, so at least he knew time had passed.</p><p>“Ah, yes, that’s right, I fell to Earth.” Siebren mused.  Moments from the ground he had created another flux to repel himself, and obviously it worked.  All that kinetic energy had to go somewhere, though, so that explained the crater.  His flux left him about four meters in the air, then he dropped, face first again, into the ground.  His legs weren’t strong enough to walk unsupported, but his head swum when he tried to levitate, so he sat there breathing.</p><p>After a moment he gathered himself and tapped the side of his helmet.  “Hallo!  Hallo?” he said as he adjusted his communicator.  “Soldier?  Baptiste?  Hallo?”  He only heard static in return.  He sighed as he gripped his helmet to remove it, but as he tried to press down and rotate to unlock it, nothing happened.  The tracks that slid the helmet into place must have been cracked, locking the helmet in place.</p><p>He could turn his head, but the helmet didn’t rotate with him, proving that theory to be fact.  “Come on,” he snapped at the helmet, but as his wiggling did was make his face plate flicker.  He was afraid to lift it in case it shattered an inch from his eyes.  “Fine, I’ll deal with you later.”  He planted his hands behind him and started to butt-scoot towards the edge of the crater.</p><p>“Ah, a fine mess you’ve gotten into,” he scolded himself.  He knew he couldn’t climb out of the crater, but his head throbbed at the thought of levitating.  <em> “I’m certain I’ve got a concussion, </em>” he muttered in Dutch.  He managed to turn around and, despite the nausea, launched himself to the edge of the crater.  </p><p>He landed chest-first, but was able to drag himself out with his arms.  “Dignified,” he muttered, and tried to get into a sitting position.  He felt nothing but static around him.  “Where is my melody?” he wondered.</p><p>“I told you it was here!” a voice called out, and Siebren looked up.  </p><p>Everything was a dizzy blur around him and his head throbbed.  Did he ever have a concussion this bad before?  He fell down a hill while hiking once, that was bad.  Another time he was knocked from a horse while playing polo.  At least he only almost drowned once.  He shook his head, trying to clear it.</p><p>“Man, I thought you were lying, Cliff, but here it is!  An alien!”</p><p>Three young men were standing there, with flashlights and some rope.  One had a hunting rifle.  When did it get dark?  How long was he thinking?  “”That isn’t an alien!  That’s an omnic!” the gunman snapped.</p><p>‘Are we in the states?’ Siebren asked himself, suddenly not knowing where he was.  They started in... where did they start in?  The east coast of England, he remembered.  He zoned out after putting his helmet on.</p><p>“Ah, goedenavond!” he said with a raised hand, and the men pulled back.</p><p>One of them raised his hunting rifle and Siebren winced.</p><p>“Now, now,” he said quietly, hands up.  “No need for that!”</p><p>“How much do you think we can get for it?” one of the men asked.</p><p>“Oh, it’s worth a lot, you see that crater?  It’s strong, but damaged.  Can’t even stand up,” the man with the rifle said.  He aimed the rifle at Siebren’s head.</p><p>“Now, wait a moment,” Siebren snapped, hands still up.  </p><p>“I think it’s trying to talk,” one of the men said.</p><p>His helmet was muffling his voice, and the speakers weren’t working, Siebren realized.  He put his hands to his head to try and take his helmet off.  “If you’ll just let me explain,” he started to say, and his head jerked back.</p><p>run</p><p>His body followed, and he tumbled back into the crater.  He rolled, losing part of his right barrier generator, and he came to a halt after rolling several times.   “Did you just shoot me?” he hissed and reached up to his helmet.  The face plate was cracked and dim, and a jagged, vertical line marred the right side of his vision.  “You shot me!” he shouted up at the man.  The bullet would have hit his right temple.</p><p>The man stepped to the lip of the crater and aimed again, and Siebren reached out.  He shot backwards as the shot bit into the ground where his legs were. </p><p>His head felt like it was full of water.  “Stop!” Siebren shouted at him, and the man slid into the crater.  </p><p>“Be a good bot and hold still,” he hissed and lifted the gun again.  “Gil, get the lorry.  And a chain, this thing’s got to weigh at least 35 stone.”</p><p>Siebren shouted and gestured, and the man flung back.  His head was killing him, but he knew he had to get away.  He tossed himself backwards and out, landing a meter away from the lip of the crater.  His eyes blacked out and for a moment he thought his cybernetic relays failed, but his vision slowly returned.</p><p> “Well, this isn’t sliced cake,” he muttered and dragged himself away from the crater.  He spotted a fence, hauled himself up, and used it to brace himself as he struggled to walk.  </p><p>Why wouldn’t his head stop throbbing for one minute?  One minute, that’s all he needed!  “Keep it together,” he hissed.  “Keep it together!”  He hauled himself along the fence, grateful for all the times Baptiste didn’t let him quit on the parallel bars.  He could hear the men shouting behind him, and he turned.</p><p>A sharp pain jolted through his head, and he grasped the helmet with a groan.  Siebren collapsed to the ground, trying to collect himself.  He could see small stones and vegetation start to lift, and he swallowed.  “No, no, no,” he hissed to himself.  “You’re better than this!”</p><p>As the men grew closer a hideous sound came with them, piercing right through his eyes.</p><p>He turned, and life seemed to be in slow motion.  </p><p>you are not better than this</p><p>He lifted his hand, and the noise grew louder.</p><p>The gunman lifted his rifle. </p><p>Siebren created a small black hole, and it devoured the bullet.</p><p>Siebren created a small black hole, and it devoured the stones in front of him.</p><p>Siebren created a small black hole, and it devoured the leaves it ripped from the tree.</p><p>He needed to escape.</p><p>run</p><p>Siebren created a small black hole, and it devoured itself.</p><p>He turned and launched himself away, energy and noise and electromagnetic fields and space and radio waves and radiation belts all screaming at him.</p><p>“It’s wrong, it’s all wrong!” he shouted, unsure if anyone heard him.</p><p>If the universe did, it did not care.</p><p>Siebren flung himself upwards, jerking as his control ebbed.</p><p>Scenery flew past him, and finally he hit the ground again.</p><p>He was grateful Reinhardt </p><p>his lion</p><p>his handsome, wonderful lion</p><p>and Torbjörn had been so thorough in his armor's creation.</p><p>How far had he gone?</p><p>Where was he?</p><p>Siebren could make out a building of some kind, and he dragged himself towards it.  His arms ached by the time he got there, and he reached for the knob.</p><p>It was locked.</p><p>punish it</p><p>Siebren hated everything right now.</p><p>release m-</p><p>“I WILL NOT!” Siebren bellowed, and the world stopped.  Everything around him clattered to the ground, and he lay there, gasping for breath that refused to come, and he forced his legs to move, pulling them under him.  He focused on the handle and it suddenly didn’t exist any more, and he shoved the door open and hauled himself inside.</p><p>“I’m better than that.”</p><p>Siebren got the door shut then hauled himself up.  He realized he was in some sort of garage, or at least a storage shed.  His outburst had scattered everything, and tools, nails, screws and small items made a minefield of the floor.  He hauled himself to the corner by a stack of boxes, sweeping things away with his arms as he went, and he managed to prop himself up.</p><p>“Maybe I WILL take Angela up on those leg braces,” he muttered.  He leaned back, his backpack preventing him from sitting comfortably, and he slammed his head against the wall with a disgusted scream.</p><p>Something rattled and he froze in fear.</p><p>Siebren carefully reached up and struggled with the helmet, but the face plate flickered again.  He couldn’t make out what it said, though.  Siebren gripped his helmet with both hands, holding it steady.  He carefully pressed the left side, then the back of his head against his helmet.</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>He slowly pressed the right side of his head against the helmet, and he could feel something move inside of his head.</p><p>The neural inhibitor was damaged.</p><p>When he had proven uncontrollable one of the powers that imprisoned him placed three neural inhibitors in his brain.  They broke up his brain’s natural energy field and could be used to harm him, shut him down, make him docile, or send him into a dissociated state where he would follow commands.</p><p>Angela had removed as much as she could, but she could not remove the entirety of the inhibitors.  Instead she de-powered them and took away their functional parts.</p><p>Now it was damaged in his head and he could feel it. </p><p>Siebren tried not to vomit.</p><p>His helmet kept flashing at him so he slammed his head into the wall again and again, and the helmet display finally dimmed.</p><p>He took a few heavy breaths, then looked around him.</p><p>“A bicycle!”  His face brightened, then darkened as he realized he couldn’t use it.  He briefly wondered if he could bicycle again with leg braces, and he spotted the work bench.  A ham radio kit sat there, next to headphones and several books.  </p><p>“Hm.  Radio.  What’s with that radio?” he mused as he spotted the books on the table.  “A bird enthusiast?”  He tried to drag himself closer, but his head screamed at him.  “In a minute, then.  I’ll just take a rest.”  Siebren closed his eyes and </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Under Preasure</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>why is everything so noisy</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was light out.  Why was it light out?  What was his dream?  He dreamed a sugar plum fairy was scolding him, her voice like a vibrant flute.  He stared up at her while she scolded him, while a mass of static in the other corner glared at him.</p><p>“Please help me,” he asked quietly, and they vanished.</p><p>Siebren woke up and it was almost light out, the false sunrise that heralded the true day.  He was amazingly thirsty, and he had to relieve himself.  His head was still throbbing, though, and he groaned. </p><p>His helmet was flashing a different color but he just didn’t care anymore.  Siebren boosted himself through the pain and managed to float the work bench, gripping it for support.  He reached for the radio and twisted a few dials, then managed to haul the stool under him.  “Hallo?” he said as he twisted another dial.  </p><p>A screaming pain stabbed him right in the temple, and Siebren </p><p>STOP</p><p>flung himself backwards to get away from the noise.  He gripped his helmet and the visor cracked.</p><p>“Keep it together!” he hissed, but the noise persisted.  He turned and gestured, crushing everything behind him.  “KEEP IT TOGETHER!”  Siebren fell to the floor, repressing a sob.  What was he going to do?  </p><p>If Winston and Reinhardt couldn’t find him, what was he going to do?</p><p>If Overwatch didn’t find him, who <strike>Talon</strike> would?</p><p>What was that n̷O̶i̵sE̶ ?</p><p>Where was the <strike>lost</strike> melody?</p><p>As the radio died, so did the noise.</p><p>Siebren propped himself up and dragged his legs under him.  He had managed to destroy half the shed, and he groaned in shame.  </p><p>A groan answered him, and he realized the shed was close to collapsing.  </p><p>He needed to keep moving!  His head already hurt, so he couldn’t make it hurt any worse, right?  He hovered and left the ruined building, toes almost dragging as he moved along.</p><p>How had he missed the house just over the way?  People were standing outside and gesturing, and he knew he was in danger again.</p><p>make it stop</p><p>“Keep it normal, no, do, no, no, keep it together,” he hissed.  He gripped his helmet and suppressed a scream.</p><p>As he opened his eyes he realized someone was getting close to him.</p><p>The man was holding a walking stick and wielding something, and that something was making a static so loud it made Siebren’s vision dim.</p><p>“Please stop,” he begged quietly, and sank to the ground.  He gripped his helmet, and heard something crack inside his head.  “Please stop!”</p><p>The man got closer, holding the device like a cross against a vampire, and prodded Siebren with the stick.</p><p>“STOP!” Sigma Siebren snarled, and the man pulled back.</p><p>When <strike>Sigma</strike>Siebren didn’t do anything, the man got bolder and stepped forward again, raising the device.  He yelled something, and prodded <strike>Sigma</strike>Siebren with the stick again.</p><p>“Stop!”</p><p>stop him</p><p>Siebren swallowed and tried to keep it together keep it together kee</p><p>The man was flung away, along with everything in a wide circle.  </p><p>Siebren couldn’t judge distances right now.  Something tackled him from behind and he lashed out, struggling and thrashing, but whatever it was wouldn’t let go. </p><p>“Unhand me!” he bellowed.  “Release me!”</p><p>release me</p><p>“I got it, Baron, I got it!  Damn, it’s strong, get a chain or something!” the man shouted, and Siebren flailed for something, anything, and spotted a rock.  He gave a shout as he summoned it to him, then turned and tried to strike his attacker.  “Cliff, get its hands!”</p><p>Cliff ran up and grabbed his wrists.  “It’s strong, all right!” he called out as Siebren struggled.  Cliff slammed his hand against the ground and Siebren dropped his rock.</p><p>“I am no omnic, moron!” Siebren snapped.  “Release me!”</p><p>Release Me</p><p>The men were close enough to hear him, and the man on his back wavered a little.  </p><p>“Get off, pannenkoek!” Siebren snarled.</p><p>“It’s a Dutch omnic?” Cliff asked, and Siebren managed to generate a gravitational flux.</p><p>He flung Cliff and his friend away from him and gripped his helmet.  He finally managed to twist his helmet, snapping the pegs, and he hauled it off.  The helmet split down the middle, revealing his bruised and battered face.  He could feel fresh blood pour from above his right ear.  “I am NOT an omnic!” he snapped.  He took several deep breaths and hauled his legs under him.</p><p>RELEASE ME</p><p>He and the men stared at each other, and Siebren tossed the helmet aside.</p><p>One of the men grabbed the rock Siebren dropped and Siebren couldn’t lift his arms in time.  </p><p>His vision whited out before the world faded.</p><p>e̢m ̡͟pl͏eh͞</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Hang Onto Yourself</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Siebren gets rescued, but not before the damage is done.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m telling you, he’s an alien,” a voice was snapping.  “You should have seen him, he was flying around!  That thing on his back must be some sort of jet pack.”</p><p>Siebren’s everything hurt.</p><p>“He is not!” another voice said.  “He’s a man in a suit!  But that gear?  I bet they’d pay a lot for it!”</p><p>“No man is that tall by default!” another voice chimed in.</p><p>Siebren was laying on his stomach, and he couldn’t move his hands.  His arms ached from how they were restrained behind him.  Something was draped over his face, and he shook his head, trying to dislodge it.  <em>“Here I am, the most powerful member of Overwatch, brought down by a concussion,</em>” he muttered in Dutch.  He flexed his wrists and shook his hips, and he realized there was a weight on him.  <em>“Oh, what’s on my bike now?”</em></p><p>release me</p><p>“Should we keep some?” another voice asked.  “Try to figure it out?”</p><p>“No, they’ll know.  Just, don’t ruin this for us!  We need the money!” another voice, maybe the first, said.</p><p>Siebren’s head was filled with sawdust.  He rocked and tried to sit up, and heard a noise as something lifted whatever fabric was draped on his head.</p><p>He looked up to see a purple smear in front of him, then it shimmered and vanished.</p><p>“No,” he hissed, and doubled his escape efforts.  “Don’t send me back, you can’t send me back!”  His voice held a hint of panic.  <em> “Stay calm, do it normal,” </em> he muttered in Dutch.</p><p>reLeaSe Me</p><p>“Well, it’s awake, whatever it is.”  Someone must have seen him moving.</p><p>“Hey, you owe me big time, freak,” Baron snapped.  “You ruin my yard, my truck, cause all this chaos, you flatten Bill’s shed and his cucumber frames, break Ian’s arm, you’re a right menace, you!”</p><p>“Release me!” Siebren snapped again.  “You don’t know what you’re getting into!”</p><p>“Oh, I know what I’m getting into,” the man said.  He grasped Siebren’s ankle and hauled his leg up.  “At least the payoff will be worth it,” he muttered and Siebren tried to pull his leg back.  “We need to make sure it isn’t going anywhere.”</p><p>“I don’t think he can walk, Baron.  He’s injured,” one of the familiar voices said.</p><p>“Well, let’s keep it that way,” Baron said with a snort.</p><p>Siebren felt his legs being moved and he struggled against whatever Baron was doing.</p><p>“Hold still!” Baron snapped, and something bounced off of Siebren’s head.  </p><p>stop him</p><p>The barrier generator and the head covering deflected most of the blow, but it still stung.</p><p>Siebren was aware his feet were free, and he paused.  Why had the man taken his boots off?  He howled as pain erupted across his feet.  He struggled and tried to get away, tried to do anything, but his head felt like he was stabbed with an iron poker.</p><p>kill them all</p><p>Ṟ̷̡̖̥͉̖̗̔̈̀͒́͜͠͝Ẽ̴̬̯̀̄̊̓̂̔͠͝Ľ̸̨̨̛̦̳͇̈͐̄͝Ę̸̼̮̖̖̮̙̙̬̙̳̌̈́̄̈́̕̚Ȁ̴̡̩͙͎͕̟̟̳͇͆̋͋͐̆̈̌͝S̸̨̡̖͍͖̦̗̙͆̃̽̈́̋̋̕͘͜Ę̵͇̃̂͒̒͆͘͜͜͝ ̴̙̭̜̦̬̺̦̦͉̝̾M̵͇͖̩͖̳̰̖̂͗̋̎̋̈́͒̚͜͝Ḛ̷̈́</p><p>make it stop</p><p>end it all</p><p>He was barely aware of Baron being hauled off of him.</p><p>“Baron, Baron, that’s a man, a person!” someone was yelling.</p><p>“He’s got blood, Baron, look!” another yellowed.  “He’s bleeding, he’s a man!”</p><p>Baron snorted.  “Well, that’ll keep it from running.  Whatever it is.”</p><p>Siebren curled in on himself as much as he could, but he knew it wouldn’t stop the pain.</p><p>“Baron, he’s here, he’s here,” a panicked voice said.  “Damn it, Baron, it isn’t worth it!  Let’s just go, just let them have him!”</p><p>“Holy shit,” someone else hissed.</p><p>Everyone fell silent.</p><p>Siebren could hear a familiar footstep, the creak of leather and a soft clink of ammunition touching and moving away from each other.  “Don’t take me back,” he hissed, struggling to control himself.  “Keep it together, keep it together!”</p><p>i wont go with you</p><p>i̶̱͚̩̝̔͂ ̴̜̻͉̖̦̇̆̿͋̓͘wIll NOt ̴̡̤͙̦̫̉͂̋̓̋͛͝GO</p><p>i̶ ̶d̷ont̴ ̷want ̴t̴o ̷g̶o̷</p><p>i will not go</p><p>n̶̦̈́o̷̯͉͐̿       no   ̷̻͙͋̑ń̵̳̦o̷̹̽͌</p><p>i WilL Not GO</p><p> </p><p≯̼̼͓̻̜̤̈͊͛̂͗̈́I̸̯̅͌̓͊̿͂ ̴̡̣̙̠̜͗̃W̴͚̖̟̅͒̏͛̈́I̷̧̗̦̾̎͆ͅL̵̟̰̳̑̃̏l̴̠͐̐̾͘ ̵̪͎̉̈́̕͜͜ͅņ̷̡͙̓͗͐͐̎͘ơ̵̧̢̼͓̮͍̪͊͐̚T̷̯̺̠͙̃́̐͘͝ ̴̥̇̉̂Ġ̵̢̧̢̼ͅǫ̵͋̿͘</p><p>“You damaged the asset,’ Reaper snarled.  He examined Siebren’s purple and red soles, then hauled the sweatshirt off his head.  He tilted Siebren’s head this way and that, his dull red eyes emotionless as they assessed the situation.</p><p>̷̧̺̯̗̭͚̎̊̒̄͝į̴̯̝͚̘͔̑̉̀̄̿͗ ̴̖̰̔̏͑̿̉͘͜͝w̴͍͇̲͔͈͗̕͠I̸̡̩͑̇̍͛̕L̵̢͗̋ļ̵̯̜͋̎̍̕ ̸̨̢̩͎̱̣̈́̓͊̆͘N̶̡̛̞͎͔͔͖̯ò̶̡̡̮̯͓͝t̴̗̔̀ ̸͕̤̬̜͍̙̒̈́̎g̶̢̝̜͕̞̈̓̑̔͑͠ȯ̴̬̬͍̱̥̐̓̕</p><p>“We didn’t want it getting away,” Baron huffed in a higher-pitched voice than usual.  “It gave us quite the struggle, sir.”</p><p>nOo n̶̦̈́o̷̯͉͐̿ ̷̻͙͋̑ no ń̵̳̦o̷̹̽͌ n/O No n̶̦̈́o̷̯͉͐̿ ̷̻͙͋̑ń̵̳̦No̷̹̽͌no</p><p>Sombra faded into existence and crouched by Siebren on the floor.  “Oh, what did they do to you, Grampy?  You look like shit.”  She reached over and booped his nose softly.  “Reaper, he’s all broken!”</p><p>“Don’t take me back,” Siebren snarled.  “I won’t go back!”</p><p>i WIll NoT Go</p><p>“You’ll get 10k,” Reaper said after examining him.</p><p>“Ten!  That won’t even repair all the damage it’s done!  We were promised a million pounds for it’s capture!” Baron sputtered.</p><p>“For his <em> safe </em>capture and return.  He’s a paralyzed old man with a concussion.  This shouldn’t have been a hard job.”  He returned his attention to Siebren’s feet.  “What did you hit him with?  That jack handle?”</p><p>"Yeah, didn't want it to wander off again," Baron snapped.  He waved the handle at Reaper, angry and scared.  “You’re welcome!”</p><p>"Oh, poor Gramps!" Sombra cooed.  "Don't worry, we'll take care of you!"</p><p>"You will do no such thing!" he snapped back.  His eyes wouldn’t focus.  </p><p>Everything was too bright.  </p><p>R̷͕̮̕E̴̛̥͚̒̏̈̇̕L̸̩͙͓̮̠͆͝E̷͂̅̃͑͠ͅÂ̷͙͓̒̂ͅS̵̡̠̖͉̝̫̝̓̃̔̓Ĕ̸̛͓̅̉͗̑̊͘͝ ̴̜̙͓̳͖̳̰͉͌M̶̨̘̠̝͗̄̍̀̇́͘̕͠Ë̷̢̦̪̜͕̯̪́̔̌͠ͅ</p><p>Everything was too loud.</p><p>“Reaper, he’s in really bad shape.”  Sombra gently stroked Siebren’s head, and Siebren winced in pain.  She ignored him as he writhed and cried out when she pressed her hands against his head wound.  “Oh, look at that brain injury.  He’s busted good, Reaper.”</p><p>“You weren’t supposed to break him,” Reaper snarled.  “Sombra, get the jet.  We’re leaving.  No payment.” </p><p>“Not without my money, you aren’t!” Baron snapped.  He gestured with his rifle.  “And all of it!”</p><p>Siebren closed his eyes shut as Reaper gripped Baron’s face.  He heard sounds not out of place in a horror movie, and men running and clamoring for their lives.  He then felt a strong arm under his waist.  “No, I’m not going!” he hissed.</p><p>“No choice in the matter,” Reaper snapped, and lifted Siebren as if he were only a few pounds.</p><p>When he turned around, Siebren over his shoulder, Siebren could see the ashy remains of Baron.  A young man was sitting near him, covered in his own urine, making a fine keening noise.  All around him the static started to build again.</p><p>Someone was screaming.  </p><p>Someone else was crying.</p><p>“What the hell is happening?”</p><p>Siebren tried to focus and get himself under control.  It was hard to hear whatever Reaper was saying over the sudden swelling music in his head; he could feel his grasp on reality cracking, and he knew it was going to fracture soon.  “Run.  Just run,” he said through gritted teeth.  “I can’t hold on for long.  Keep it together, keep it together, keep it together,” he hissed to himself. "Just do it normal, and keep it together!”</p><p>“We, we’ve got to get out of here,” someone snapped.  “This isn’t natural!”</p><p>Siebren struggled to move and something inside his head cracked.  He heard something slam against the wall, and he could feel whatever was on his back lift.  </p><p>Someone screamed and he could hear something crash.</p><p>let go</p><p>“Just do it normal,” he told himself, but he couldn’t move his hands.  All around him things started to creak and moan, and he squeezed his eyes shut.  “I will not do this again!” he shouted over every scrap of noise, and things went quiet.  “Release me,” he hissed.</p><p>He could hear nervous laughter and screaming chatter, and he felt someone move his hands.  Did someone cut a rope?  It felt like someone cut a rope.  Siebren gripped his throbbing head and took several ragged breaths.</p><p>He was in some sort of garage, and everything was floating.  He swatted everything away from him, and gestured to the door.  He didn't have any fine control and the entire wall ripped open.  Everything rushed outside, carried by a flood of gravity, from garden tools to people, including Siebren.  </p><p>He then shot straight into the air.</p><p>Everything around him lifted briefly, then fell once he was out of range.</p><p>He neither knew nor cared where the men were when he left.</p><p>Eventually he stopped and rested in the cold, thin air.  </p><p>It shocked his system and made his eyes sting, and he slowly drifted down, trying to gauge his height.</p><p>He didn’t know where he was, how high he was, what time it was.</p><p>He was lost.</p><p>He didn’t know how long he hung there, resting, waiting for something, listening to the static in his head, when he felt someone take his hand.</p><p>“Doc?  Hey, Dr. de Kuiper?” a familiar voice asked, and he looked over.</p><p>“Oh, Fareeha, how nice to see you,” he said in a breezy tone.</p><p>nothing is real</p><p>Nothing felt real.  Nothing existed.  Not in any way that mattered, at least.</p><p>“Come on, doctor, let’s get you inside.”  She was wearing her Raptora suit, and Siebren realized she was flying.  “In we go, easy does it.”</p><p>“Where are we?” he asked dreamily.</p><p>“Over Wales.”  She took him by the waist and led him to the Orca II like a lifeguard returning a drowning man to shore.  </p><p>At some point Mercy joined them.  “Oh, you’re in bad shape, Bren,” she hissed sadly.  “Here, in we go.”  They guided him inside, and he easily collapsed into Reinhardt’s arms.</p><p>“I’m thirsty,” he managed to say as Reinhardt lifted him into a bridal carry.</p><p>“OH!  Your feet, your feet, what happened to you!” Mercy said as the bay door closed.  </p><p>“Hallo,” Siebren sighed.  He closed his eyes and heard his name called, but he didn’t care.  </p><p>Everything was black, but it smelled like Reinhardt, at least.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. "Wake Up" (live)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Siebren is safe at home.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Siebren wasn’t alone when he woke up.  He could feel a soft, warm body by his hip, and he went to touch it.  His hand, however, wouldn’t move.  “Hallo?” he called softly, and heard a soft chirp.  He opened his eyes and realized Boris was sitting up.  “Hallo, Boris,” he said softly.</p><p>His right hand had an I.V. in it, and it was secured with a Velcro loop to the guard rail of his bed.</p><p>“I’ll pet you in a moment,” he promised, and used his left hand to release his right.  He tended to be an active sleeper, and the Velcro kept him from pulling his I.V.s out.  He was hauling himself into a sitting position when Baptiste strolled in.</p><p>“Back with the living finally?” he asked and helped Siebren sit up.  He then wedged a pillow behind him for support.  “We got your feet cleaned up and you slept off a nasty concussion, Bren.  Let me see your head.”</p><p>“Do concussions normally require bandages?” Siebren asked, ignoring the honeycomb casts on his feet for now.</p><p>“No, but minor surgery does.  Boris, no, no, kitty.”  Baptiste was pulling gloves on and trying to keep Boris from demanding love.</p><p>“Angela promised no surgery without consent!”  Siebren was started how quickly his insides turned to slush.  “She promised!”</p><p>“I know, but she’s on her way, she’ll explain in a moment,” Baptiste said quietly.</p><p>He could hear Angela’s heels clicking rapidly as she came down the hall.  “You promised,” Siebren hissed and tried to cover his bandage.</p><p>Boris was not thrilled with all the movement.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I know I promised no operations without permission, but I pulled a six centimeter piece of shrapnel from your head,” she said firmly, and washed her hands in the sink.</p><p>Siebren felt his face redden.  “That, that would be important,” he muttered.  He made a summoning noise and Boris crawled into his arms.</p><p>Angela pulled her own gloves on and activated the sterilization field around Siebren’s head.  “OK, let’s see, it looks like everything’s healing down nicely.  Are you coherent enough to talk?” she asked.</p><p>“Person, woman, man, camera, television,” he said instantly.  </p><p>Sometimes Siebren reminded Angela just how old he was.</p><p>“Echo!  How is Echo?” he asked suddenly.</p><p>“She’s recovering,” Baptiste said.  He quickly fell into the role of nurse.  “I know a woman who can help get the plas-tech to recreate her wing.”</p><p>“Good, good.”  Siebren waited for Angela to cover his wound before leaning back.  “And the others?”</p><p>“Well, we were all a little freaked out when you launched yourself away.  Junkrat got pretty angry and managed to make a bomb to feed to the worm, and finished it off.  All the heads were attached to a single body.  We got out, and, well, you know Jack.  He loves his news.  He spotted a story about a UFO crashing in Stratford-upon-Avon.  We found the crater, found the outbuilding, and then we just went straight up and west.  You kinda drift west when you’re not thinking about it.”</p><p>Siebren was relieved Baptiste glossed over the damage he had done.  “Yes, that makes sense.”  Siebren could feel the cold smear of biotic gel as Angela finished her exam.  </p><p>“How are you?” she asked gently.</p><p>“Everything was monkaS,” he muttered, and let Boris climb to his chest so he could roll his head on his shoulder and neck.  “I lost control so quickly.”</p><p>“You got slammed into a wall then the floor, then the ground a few miles away, Bren,” Batiste said with a relieved chuckle.  “You’re allowed to have a concussion.”</p><p>“No, it was before then,” Siebren said quietly.  He absently rubbed Boris’ ears and cheeks, and the massive black cat chirped at him happily.  “Yes, yes, I’m happy to see you, too.”  His eyes unfocused for a moment.  “I think it started with the helmet.  The boots.  The combat.  It was all too much.”</p><p>“I know this is important, but there’s something else we need to discuss,” Angela said and pulled out her datapad.  “When I pulled out the shrapnel, I pulled out part of an implant.  That was the invasive surgery.”</p><p>Siebren swallowed bitterly.  “The neural suppressor?”</p><p>“Yes,” Angela said and let him take the datapad.  “It was active.”</p><p>Siebren leaned back and slumped against his pillow.  That would explain the pain.  His eyes saw the report, but his brain couldn’t process it.</p><p>Angela had removed as much of the cybernetic implants as she could.  She removed suppressors and shut down modules and spinal interrupters.  She had replaced the broken connection between his eyes and his brain with a cybernetic relay.  She had done everything she could to return his body to him, but some things could not be altered.</p><p>In order to remove parts of the modification to his neck and spine she would have to recreate his entire spine, causing more damage and alteration than he had at that moment.  Instead she altered its function and style, giving him a more normal appearance.</p><p>Anyone looking at him would still see the implant and its protective cover on him, but it no longer gave him a hunched appearance.</p><p>She could have removed the suppressors when she removed the thick dome and ring on his head, but that would have required more invasive surgery, so she simply depowered them and replaced the thick dome with a normal plate, letting skin and hair grow on his head.</p><p>Siebren reached up and touched the bandages gently.  “All three of them?”</p><p>“Just this one was activated.  But the others showed a fluctuation.  They must be drawing power from your own electrical impulses,” Angela explained gently.  “I know we talked about this and I promised, but I had to get a second opinion.  I needed to know I wasn’t hurting you.”</p><p>“So you called an expert,” Siebren sad softly. “I understand.  It’s fine, Angela, really.”</p><p>“You have every right to be mad at me.”</p><p>He reached over and took her hand.  “I know you meant well.  I am angry, but I don’t hate you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”  He adjusted Boris and Angela sat down on the edge of the bed.  “You do so much for me and you try so hard.  Can we remove the other two implants?” </p><p>He hated the idea of hands inside his brain again, but he hated the feeling of the implants more.  He could just feel them under his skin, sitting on his brain, plugged into neurons and flesh, biding their time to ruin his life.</p><p>“I can call them, yes.  They were interested in learning more, but I didn’t give them any information except the physical scan needed for their assessment.”</p><p>Siebren nodded and adjusted Boris.  “I want them out, please.”</p><p>Angela nodded and started typing.  “They can be here in a day, actually.  Turns out they’re in Wales, visiting a friend!”</p><p>“Good day for Wales, I suppose.”  Siebren leaned back, suddenly tired.</p><p>“You rest, I’ll get things ready.”  Angela gave his hand a squeeze.  “After you’ve had some lunch I’ll go over the details, OK?”</p><p>
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</p><p>When he woke up, he was sitting quite deliciously.  He was warm.  He was wrapped in both a warm sweater and strong arms.  Siebren hummed softly and sunk deeper into Reinhardt’s chest.</p><p>“How are you?” Reinhardt asked gently.  He adjusted his arms and let Siebren settle in.</p><p>“Horrible,” Siebren grunted.  “My feet ache.  My head aches.  My arm is sore where Angela took blood.  I’m thirsty.  I’m hungry.  I need to use de WC.  Everything is too bright.”  Siebren always pronounced WC as ‘way-say.’  He preferred the term ‘Water Closet,’ thinking ‘toilet’ to be tacky.  He looked up at Reinhardt.  “But my bed is nice.”  He was sitting in Reinhardt’s lap, leaning against him.  He had opened his eyes enough to see they were in his room, a room that was rapidly becoming his and Reinhardt’s.  He could make out Boris sitting by his hips, sprawled out as if he were melting.</p><p>“Good to know,” Reinhardt said with an amused chuckle.  He loved how cranky Siebren looked while sleeping, and kissed the top of his head.  </p><p>Siebren settled a little more.</p><p>“Ready to get up?” Reinhardt asked, and Siebren nodded.  “Let’s get you some food.  Can you levitate?”</p><p>“Right now, no,” Siebren admitted.  His head still ached.  </p><p>“Do you mind if I carry you?”  Reinhardt would never admit it, but he loved to carry Siebren around.</p><p>“If I’m no burden,” Siebren said quietly.  He slung his arms around Reinhardt’s neck, eagerly sinking into his arms.</p><p>After a few minutes of getting ready, Reinhardt carried Siebren to the kitchen.  “Can you sit on a stool or do you need the bench?” he asked, and Siebren gestured to the booth seating.  “Hm, I should get something for you to rest your feet on.”</p><p>Baron had broken two bones in his left foot and three in his right, and dislocated most of his toes in the process.  The soles of his feet were angry and red, with ugly black and green forming on the edges.</p><p>His right foot had required a stabilizing plate, one Angela has assured him would fuse to his bone nicely and cause him no problems.  His bones were treated with nanite therapy, and in six weeks he would be cleared to walk for short periods of time.</p><p>Still, he was reaching the end of the parallel bars in physical therapy.  How long would this delay his recovery?</p><p>“Rein?” he asked, and Reinhardt looked down at him.  “Would you think less of me if I took the leg braces Angela offered?”</p><p>“What?  No, I wouldn’t!” Reinhardt insisted.  He turned Siebren sideways and together they got his legs braced on a pile of towels on a chair.  “It will open many doors for you!”</p><p>Siebren reached up and touched the bandage near his right ear.  “I’ve also asked her to remove the rest of the implants.”</p><p>Reinhardt knew how much the idea of brain surgery scared Siebren.  He clumsily leaned over Siebren, then gently cupped his face and kissed his forehead.  “I will hold your hand while she does so.”</p><p>“There’s a chance my personality would change.”  Siebren swallowed.  “The expert Angela spoke with says the inhibitors have been active all along.”</p><p>“So you will be free?” Reinhardt asked, eyes shining.  “Winston once told me of your fire and arrogance, and I would love to see it!” </p><p>“Even at my worst?  I admit that my memories are spotty.  But, yes, arrogant was a word tossed around.”  </p><p>“I look forward to it!” Reinhardt laughed.  “Oh, you are a strong personality either way!  Quiet as you are now, you don’t tolerate foolishness.  We know your moods, when you are happy, and when you are not.”  He grinned and took a deep, happy breath.  “I await seeing you unleashed.”</p><p>Siebren finally chuckled and leaned into Reinhardt’s hands.  “Thank you, Rein.”</p><p>“Let me get your omelette started.”  Reinhardt kissed his forehead again and pushed himself back up.</p><p>Siebren leaned back and watched Reinhardt work, and they quietly ate their breakfast for dinner.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Changes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Siebren gets surgery.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Siebren was always cranky when he didn’t get his yogurt in the morning, but he couldn’t eat before surgery.  He was waiting in the infirmary, Reinhardt and Winston sitting near him, when he heard Angela open the door. </p><p>“OK, they’re here!” she announced as she stepped inside.  “They’re a little unconventional, but trust me, they know what they’re doing.  This is the neurologist.”</p><p>Behind Angela came a figure with arm crutches and leg braces, tall enough to easily look Morrison in the eyes, but as narrow as Lena.  </p><p>“Ma’am,” Winston said, and walked over to her.  “Thank you for coming on short notice.”</p><p>‘i appreciate it, but im no maam,’ they said calmly and shook his hand.  Their crutches had a hinge which let the crutch hang down so they didn't hit things while using their arms.  ‘just ‘Xombi’ will do.’</p><p>“Xombi?” Reinhardt asked.</p><p>‘because im dead and i do things to brains.  no gender.  can you show Aggie where we’re setting up?’ they asked.  They had long grey hair in a braid, and wore ancient jeans and a t-shirt.  A colorful Peruvian shawl was tied around their waist.  </p><p>“This way, please.”  Angela led the second figure behind her, a man in a two-toned blue jumpsuit, long coat and a helmet with a full face plate.</p><p>‘thats my walking legs human.  hes got the gear.’  They turned their odd eyes to Reinhardt and Siebren.  Their eyes were completely black with golden rings for an iris, and obviously biotic.  ‘ive seen your work, Winston, its nice to meet you.’</p><p>“I’m afraid I’m unfamiliar with yours,” he admitted, and gave them a nervous eye.</p><p>‘dont worry, Aggie’s got proper scrubs for me in the kit.  you are familiar with my work, after all.  you used some of it while programming an A.I. a while back.  im Nadia Grandi,’ they said.</p><p>“Oh, your neurological pattern research helped map the new omnic brain patterns!” he said in an excited tone.  “Your seizure research helped revolutionize mental health care!”</p><p>‘thats why Ziegler called me.  its my research thats been planted in his brain.’  They pointed at Siebren.  ‘those Taon cojudos warped everything and destroyed my work.’</p><p>“You made the inhibitors?” Siebren asked.</p><p>‘they were supposed to stop seizures,’ Xombi scoffed.  ‘with some tinkering, though, Naomi figured out how to make them break electrical impulses to scatter thoughts.  Ziegler recognized my work and contacted me.  no small feat, im hard to find.’  They made their way to Siebren and looked him in the eyes.  ‘youve got two left.  i walked Ziegler through removing the first one.  ive actually got your file, too.  stole it from Talon a few months ago.  we didn't know what he had, though.  shame what they did to you.’</p><p>They turned and went down the hall to the surgery room.  ‘you didnt deserve that.  c’mon, lets get that shit out of your brain.’  </p><p>Reinhardt lifted Siebren and easily carried him down the hall.</p><p>Xombi’s assistant was waiting in the hall, leaning against the wall with his arms and ankles crossed.  “Doctor Ziegler and her Baptiste want me to wait here.”  His voice was altered by a voice scrambler, and Siebren had doubts if he were a human or an omnic.</p><p>‘go take a seat in the waiting room.  ill whistle if i need you,’ Xombi said.</p><p>“Got it, boss.”  Aggie pushed himself off the wall, gave a jaunty salute with two fingers, and made his way to the waiting room, duffel bag slung across his back.  He shimmied sideways to make it around Winston.</p><p>“I should wait, too.  I doubt Rein and Bren and myself will fit in there,” Winston said.  He followed Aggie to the waiting room.</p><p>The man dropped his duffel bag by a chair and took his long coat off.  He folded it and set it on one of the seats, and stretched his arms and back. He sat down and opened his duffel, then looked up.  “Something I can help you with?” he asked and pulled out a small case.  He took his gloves off, revealing slender black gloves underneath.</p><p>“Have we met?” Winston asked.</p><p>Aggie put his case down and stood up.  “Hi, I’m the boss’ number one minion.”  He held his hand out.  When Winston took his hand to shake it, Aggie put his other hand over Winston’s hand.  “I fetch things for them, make sure they get from point A to point B in once place, make lunch, arrange mob hits, carry the equipment, drive the glider, I guess pilot the glider, it’s a glider and I’m in charge of it, who knows why, I also set up the equipment, but they said they had good hands here so I’m not needed right now, but, when I am needed I’m the boss’ number one minion, nice to meet you.  They call me Aggie.”</p><p>Winston pulled his hand away and Aggie let go, then sat back down.  He opened the case, showing several scraps of cloth.  He pulled two pieces out and examined them.  After pinning them together he looked up at Winston.  “Was there something you needed?”</p><p>“No, just, I feel like I know you,” Winston mused.  He watched as Aggie, number one minion, started to sew the pieces together with an immaculately tiny back stitch.</p><p>“I’ll just be quilting then, until the boss needs me.”  </p><p>As if on cue there came a whistle.</p><p>“And the boss needs me.”  Aggie put the quilting down and stood up.  “I’m gonna leave my stuff here, that cool?”</p><p>“Yes, it’s fine,” Winston said, and Aggie walked down the hall.  He was tempted to root through the bag, but didn’t.</p><p>Aggie walked down the hall and leaned in the door.  “Yeah, boss?”  He ducked back once he saw Siebren removing his shirt.</p><p>‘did you bring your viola?’ they asked.  ‘i want Siebren to do something with his hands while i work on him.’</p><p>“I don’t think so, but I think I’ve got Milly’s keyboard, will that do?” he asked.</p><p>“I’ve played both, I play many instruments, actually.”  Siebren let Reinhardt help him into the surgical gown.  </p><p>Angela looked at the operating table.  Siebren would be sitting up, leaning against a rest, his chin held in place by a brace.  “A keyboard would be easier, I suppose.”</p><p>“I’ll be back!” Aggie said and jogged back to Winston.  “Hey, I need something from the glider, do I need an escort or can I just head on back and grab it?”  He hauled his long coat on as he asked.</p><p>Fareeha had joined Winston in the waiting room.  She did not have time to examine anything, though.  “We’ll go with you,” she offered.  “It will be nice to stretch our legs.”  She followed him out the door.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” Fareeha said.</p><p>Aggie shrugged.  “Well, it’s free range and used to wandering around.”</p><p>“What is that on your jacket?” Winston asked.  It seemed Fareeha wanted some information on Aggie the Minion, so Winston was willing to oblige.  </p><p>The man’s coat had a rosary on the back, sewn in place along the spaces between the red beads, but instead of a crucifix he had sewn a card or image.  It was of an angel in the heavens blowing a horn, and several joyful people rising from coffins.  The top read ‘XX’ and the bottom read ‘Judgement.’</p><p>“It’s the Tarot card, Judgement,” he said with a nod.  “It means resurrection and awakening, a change.  It’s not Death, which is a cycle.  Judgement means something comes to an absolute end, making way for an entirely new beginning.”</p><p>“Why have that instead of a Jesus?” Fareeha asked.</p><p>The man paused a moment.  “God and I came to an understanding,” he said, and moved on.</p><p>“Still don’t know your name,” Fareeha asked.  Her tone held a tint of suspicion.</p><p>“Weird world, isn’t it?” he said and kept walking.</p><p>“So, they call you Aggie?” Winston pressed.</p><p>“And Minion,” Fareeha added.</p><p>“I have a doctorate!  It’s DOCTOR Minion.”  They entered the hangar and passed by a few people.  The glider was sitting in its docking bay, recharging.  It wasn’t very large, fitting only two people, and had a small cargo area.</p><p>Aggie opened the cargo and hauled himself up.</p><p>“Here, let me help.”  Winston put his shoulder and back under Aggie’s feet, boosting him.  “It’s a nice glider!”</p><p>“Thanks, friend!  And here we go!”  Aggie pulled out a small case and stepped down.</p><p>“You don’t seem startled that I’m, well, a gorilla,” Winston said quietly.  “Most people, even knowing of me, are still surprised when they meet me.”</p><p>“Friend, my life is weird,” the minion said brightly.  “A gorilla is the least of my worries.”</p><p>“So, Dr. Minion,” Fareeha asked, “what is your doctorate in?”  She knew how to make scholars talk about their work; simply ask!  The trick was getting them to stop.</p><p>“Theology!” Dr. Aggie said brightly as he locked the cargo.</p><p>“With the rosary, I’m assuming a Catholic perspective?”  Winston appreciated Fareeha’s grin behind Aggie’s back.  He was pleased he was doing well.</p><p>“No, not just Catholicism, though it is what I’m most familiar with.  Born Catholic, you see.  I wrote my thesis on the inter-connectivity of religion and rituals and how they’re adjusted with race and social standings,” he continued.  “I also hold a masters in Philosophy and I am published, thank you very much!  I wrote a book.”</p><p>“Really? What name did you publish under?  Being an off-grid mercenary I’d assume it under a nom-de-plume?” Fareeha asked.  “That must have taken some time.”  </p><p>“Yeah, I went under a pen name.”  He rolled his shoulders and adjusted his grip on the handle of the case.  “It was tough, but, I think I wrote two chapters in about an hour one day, then spent weeks agonizing over the next few paragraphs.  When you’re not of a certain religious or ethnic group you want to make really sure you’re not misrepresenting or speaking over them.”</p><p>“Writing is like that, I suppose,” Winston said.  “I would like to read your thesis and book.  So, you said you’re Catholic?”</p><p>“I’m so Catholic I was born in Vatican City!” he said with a laugh.  “Mama just HAD to get Confession before we were born!”</p><p>Fareeha quickly swiped on her phone.  “What’s the name of the cathedral there?” she asked.</p><p>“You might be thinking of St. Peter’s Basilica, most people do.  And, well, everyone thinks it’s a cathedral, but it isn’t because it isn’t the seat of a bishop.  The cathedral of the pope as Bishop of Rome is at Saint John Lateran.  Most people think it’s St. Peter’s, though.”  Aggie was just as happy to talk about churches as he was his degree.</p><p>“You were born in St. Peter’s?  The church?” Fareeha asked, and Aggie nodded.  “So, I’m assuming you’re Marcus and not Marcia D’Angelo,” she said, and Aggie’s shoulders drooped.  “Why are your records sealed?  Athena had to search hard to find that one piece.  On a Vatican server.”</p><p>“It’s DOCTOR D’Angelo,” he said with a sigh.  “And it’s Angel Eyes.  Ask Jack, he knows why everything is locked up.”</p><p>“Jack who?” Fareeha asked, feigning innocence.</p><p>“Jack Morrison.  He’s got that tacky snake jacket and helmet on today.  Usually he’s got a jacket with 76 on it, his SEP number,” Angel Eyes explained.  </p><p>“What was your SEP number?” Fareeha asked.</p><p>“98.”  Angel Eyes entered the infirmary and kept walking.  He figured there was no use hiding any information now.</p><p>“How did you know it was him?” Fareeha asked.  “Jack, I mean?”</p><p>“We met on the field once.  He didn’t know me, but, I guess he was making a statement with his letter jacket.”  Angel Eyes knocked on the door.  “Got the keyboard, boss!.</p><p>‘are you behaving?’ Xombi asked as Angela opened the door.</p><p>“Sure, great, fine, I lost my secret identity, but gained a new fan, I need to order and sign a copy of my book for him,” Angel Eyes said and Xombi groaned at him.  “They asked tricky questions and I answered them because I didn’t want to be rude.”</p><p>‘we havent even been here half an hour, Aggie,’ they sighed at him.</p><p>“Yeah, I know, new record, right?” he said in a cheerful tone.  He handed Angela the case, but didn’t let go.  “OK, this is Milly’s Yamaha Starlight Lover’s hard light keyboard.  I took it to Wales to have the case refinished by a professional my husband-”</p><p>‘Aggie,” Xombi interrupted.</p><p>“Right, sorry, the case is more important.  Like Excali-”</p><p>‘Aggie.’  Xombi’s tone was final.</p><p>“Fair.  I’ll be down the hall!  Quilting and shutting up.”  He saluted with two fingers and returned to the waiting room.</p><p>‘i love the man but he wont stop talking.’  They had their gear set up now, and were ready to begin.  ‘Siebren, im going to need you to play while im working on you. in fact, why dont you tell me a story?’ they asked.</p><p>Siebren easily set up the piano and gave a scale.  “I feel like a lounge singer,” he quipped.  He could feel the sting of the sanitation field, then the prick of a few needles.  His skin went numb, and he started to play the piano.  They keys were solid under his fingers, and while he could tell it was artificial, it still sounded nice.  “So, tell you a story.”</p><p>“Rein, listen to him and let us know if something isn’t right, please?” Angela asked.  “Please, Bren, begin.”</p><p>He could feel a tool over his left ear, but it didn’t bother him.  He listened to Angela and Xombi communicating, and continued his scales.</p><p>“So, I was visiting friends and I was cooking, and someone came over with a bucket full of crabs.  I’m afraid I don’t remember their names, it was a long time ago, and my memory isn’t strong.  But we had him put the crabs in the laundry room.”</p><p>Reinhardt watched him carefully.</p><p>“He couldn’t take them home, they were a surprise meal.  He couldn’t take them to Basil’s, since he would eat them.  Same with, with, their names elude me.”  His hands composed their own tune.  “But then... what was his name?”  He could feel something moving inside of his head.  “We’ll just call him Jesse.  Jesse came home.  I was cooking and had forgotten the crabs were on the drier.  Now, Jesse smoked a fair bit more pot than was necessary.”</p><p>He carefully ran another scale.  “As did his room mate Genji.  But Jesse comes home and puts his laundry in the washer.  And he asks about the bucket of crabs.  Now, I had completely forgotten about it by now, I was busy making sauce.  The cookbook was in German.  I couldn’t speak fluently, but if I read it out loud and listened to myself, I could make out what was what.”</p><p>‘pause, please.’  Xombi maneuvered something. ‘sorry, jaw movement was interfering.  carry on.’</p><p>“Ah, yes, very well.”  Siebren blinked.  It was so odd feeling something moving inside his head, but he wasn’t worried about it.  Modern drugs were amazing!  “Jesse asked about the crabs and I denied they were there.  Of course, I remembered half way through my denial, but I wasn’t about to correct myself.  So Jesse started to help with dinner.  Eventually Genji gets home, goes to do laundry.  And he asks about the bucket of crabs.”</p><p>Siebren paused again when Xombi asked him too, then continued.</p><p>“And Jesse tells Genji, oh, it’s OK, Siebren told me the crabs weren’t real.  And a minute later he looks up, irritated at me.”  Siebren smiled.  “I don’t tell stories very well,” he admitted.</p><p>Reinhardt patted his hand.  “I thought it was funny.”</p><p>‘tell me about your cat,’ Xombi said and swapped tools.</p><p>“Boris?  Not much to say, he’s black, he’s large, he sings like a bird.  I found him in Mongolia, and he walked up to me and climbed me and didn’t let go.  We asked around, he was a stray, so I kept him.”  He idly started playing the theme song to a television show he vaguely remembered.  “Very exciting, I know.  Reinhardt tells stories better than I do.”</p><p>‘i dont need entertained,’ Xombi said.  ‘i just need to know if youre coherent.’</p><p>“How dangerous is this?” Reinhardt asked quietly.</p><p>‘Doctor, tell me why this is dangerous, please,’ Xombi asked.</p><p>“There’s a chance that removing the implants will damage my motor controls, which is why I have the keyboard.  It might damage my brain, which is why I’m talking.  And burying the optic relays and reconnecting my eyes might permanently blind me,” he explained.  His voice was quiet.</p><p>“I called Xombi because they’re the best at brain work,” Angela said softly.</p><p>‘true, thank you.  Dr. Ziegler can do amazing things, but i have a niche.’  They untangled the last piece of the left implant and pulled it out.  ‘those assholes, this was a prototype.’  Xombi put the implant on a tray and examined it.  They muttered in Spanish and flipped the piece over.  ‘you did a good job disabling it, for not knowing what it was.’</p><p>“I found some schematics in a file someone gave us,” Angela admitted.  “But I didn’t feel secure removing it.”</p><p>The second implant didn’t take as long to remove, and Siebren suddenly gasped.</p><p>Xombi and Angela froze.  ‘talk to me,’ Xombi said in a firm tone.</p><p>“I’m remembering,” Siebren said, tears suddenly forming.  “I can remember.  I have a brother, Levi, he’s four years older than I am, he was a mechanic.  He died in the Crisis.”  Siebren reached out and Reinhardt held his hands, then moved the keyboard aside.  “My mother, too, her name was Lilli, she would take us hiking.  I remember hiking!  She loved sunflowers.  The garden was full of them, father always planted them!”  He blinked and Reinhardt wiped his tears gently.  “We had a house, we had staff.”</p><p>Xombi carefully pulled out a second tool and started to trim as much implant away.  They didn’t want to open Siebren’s incision any more than necessary.  ‘continue, tell me about them.’</p><p>“Mama would take us hiking.  I remember we went to Finland to see a friend, and we ended up in a field.  She made us walk, heads down, until we were in a certain place, then told us to look up.  I had seen the stars before, but never so clear, never so many!  I remember falling, he was my stepfather, he caught me.  I never knew my father, he died when I was a baby, but Noelle was my father.  He gave me a telescope.  He gave Levi a car to fix.  I saw Jupiter through that telescope.  I saw Jupiter’s moons!  He was such a good man.”</p><p>Reinhardt gently kissed Siebren’s temple.</p><p>‘he needs his wounds sterilized, stabilized, cauterized and wrapped to keep out infection.  kisses can not do that,’ Xombi scolded in a light tone.</p><p>“Kisses heal all,” Reinhardt muttered back.  He gave Siebren’s hands a squeeze and kissed his knuckles.</p><p>Siebren laced their fingers together.  </p><p>‘Dr. Ziegler has done an excellent job on your care, Siebren.’  Xombi carefully pulled last of the implant out.  ‘do you want your cybernetic relay removed and your eyes set back up?  i can do that with Barber.  Barber is a specialized machine, wafer thin, he can fit between your bone and brain so we dont have to open you up.’</p><p>Siebren squeezed Reinhardt’s fingers.  “Yes.  I want, yes.”</p><p>‘what do you want?  i need a solid answer,” Xombi demanded.</p><p>“I want my head to be my own.  I want all this shit out of it.”  Siebren surprised himself with the anger in his voice.  "I want to see!"</p><p>‘so mote it be.  you will be blind for anywhere from hours to a few days, but i see no reason for it not to work.’  Xombi pulled out a new device.  ‘and youre going under for this.’</p><p>“No, I feel fine,” Siebren said in a dreamy tone.</p><p>‘ok, but Barber sits on your face and puts these artilugio under your eyelid to reach behind your eyes,’ they explained and gestured to a thin wire.</p><p>“I trust your recommendation of anesthesia,” Siebren said quickly.</p><p>‘ok, lay back and think of the Netherlands,’ Xombi said as Reinhardt helped Siebren lay down.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The bucket-of-crabs story is real, and involves stoners.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. I Feel Free</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A short, but happy, ending.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Siebren awoke again the world was dark.  He was curled around Reinhardt, and he could hear a podcast or a sports game.  He could feel that his head was swaddled.</p><p>He remembered.</p><p>He remembered being on the operating table, restrained, scared, hurting, screaming.  Why didn't they listen?  Why didn’t they help him?  Why were they hurting him?</p><p>Nothing made sense.</p><p>He hid inside himself.</p><p>He had memories of Talon, memories of watching but not interacting.  </p><p>They hurt him when he interacted.</p><p>They hurt him when he thought too hard.</p><p>They hurt him when he moved.</p><p>They hurt him.</p><p>Reinhardt never hurt him.</p><p>Winston never hurt him.</p><p>Angela never hurt him.</p><p>He hummed a soft melody that only he could hear and felt a kiss on the top of his head.</p><p>He went back to sleep.</p><p>
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</p><p>When Siebren awoke again the world was dark.  He was curled around Reinhardt, and he could hear conversation.  After a while it made sense.</p><p>“And then we adjust the stabilization matrix,” Reinhardt saw saying, and Siebren felt himself shifted as Reinhardt gestured.</p><p>Boris let Reinhardt know both he and Siebren were agitated.</p><p>“Right, right,” Torbjörn was saying, “but that requires a power converter at the fuse.”</p><p>“We’ll get it sorted!” Reinhardt said and chuckled.  “We always do.”</p><p>“We?” Torbjörn scoffed.  “Who’s we?  I’m the one who always has to do the math!”</p><p>The two bickered a little back and forth, and Siebren finally opened his eyes.  He struggled for his sleep mask, and Reinhardt adjusted him.</p><p>“Ah, I didn’t mean to wake you!” Torbjörn said quickly.</p><p>“Ingrid,” Siebren muttered, “battery.  Junction.”  In his head he had a full sentence, but he simply couldn’t get the words out.</p><p>“He’s right,” Torbjörn said once he realized what Siebren was trying to say.  “If Ingrid can make a liquid battery, we can skip the fuse and eliminate a few parts.  All we’ll need is a power converter to adjust to the proper charge.”</p><p>“Come on, Siebren, let’s get you comfortable.”  Reinhardt lifted Siebren to take him to the bathroom.</p><p>
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</p><p>When Siebren awoke again the world was dim.  He was curled around Reinhardt, and he could hear snoring.  He sat up, adjusting himself with his arms.  His feet were aching, and he realized Reinhardt had his legs wrapped around Siebren’s own legs, trapping his broken feet.  “Rein,” Siebren said softly, and shook his shoulder.  “Rein, please, move your legs.”</p><p>Reinhardt snorted himself awake and shifted, and cuddled Siebren.  “And some bread,” he muttered, and returned to sleep.</p><p>After almost and hour Siebren realized he could no longer sleep, and he gently removed himself from Reinhardt’s arms.  He examined himself, and gave himself a sniff.  “Ah, I reek.”  The smell was familiar, and reminded him of the time he went camping for two weeks.  He stripped as he went to the shower, dropped his clothes in the hamper, and hauled out fresh clothing.</p><p>His shower was tall, and the water rained from the heads in the ceiling.  Siebren eagerly showered, and lifted his arms.  The water floated around him, and he held it aloft, examining it in the pale lights set into the ceiling.  He turned a little, humming, and let it rain on him.</p><p>Once clean he dried and dressed, then floated to the bed.</p><p>Reinhardt was still sleeping, and Siebren sat near him.</p><p>He gently stroked Reinhardt’s head, pretending for a few minutes his lover was a massive lion.  Siebren bent down and kissed his temple, and Reinhardt sighed in his sleep.  It took a few minutes to find his ankle sensors, and Siebren removed the weights from them before strapping them on.  He hauled Reinhardt’s sweater on and left the room.</p><p>He floated down the empty halls, and finally he left the building.  He scooped up a towel from the beach locker and sat on the shore, watching the ocean and sky.  Finally a massive form sat by him.</p><p>“You good?” Roadhog asked, and Siebren nodded.  </p><p>They sat quietly, watching the sky.</p><p>Eventually the stars faded, and those who went running in the morning came along the beach.  </p><p>“Morning, Mako!  Morning, Siebren!” Morrison said with a wave as he passed.</p><p>Mako waved back and stood, dusting the sand from his backside and legs.  He offered his hand to Siebren and hauled him up.</p><p>Reinhardt came and paused by them.  “Are you OK?” he asked quietly, and Siebren nodded.</p><p>“I just needed a breather, is all.  I should have left a note, but I suppose Athena can track my ankles.”  He gestured to the sensors.  He lifted himself into the air and grabbed the towel.  “I’ll get some breakfast started.”</p><p>Reinhardt pulled him close and pressed their foreheads together, and Siebren smiled at him.  Reinhardt let him float away.</p><p>Siebren floated to the kitchen and hummed as he started to set up a breakfast buffet.  Mei was making the French toast while Siebren scrambled the eggs, and the breakfast meats were in the oven.  </p><p>“How are you, Bren?” Mei asked as she flipped the French toast.</p><p>“I feel, well, I’m not sure,” he admitted.  “Colors are brighter.  Sounds are clearer.  I’m awake.”  Siebren spooned the eggs into the dishes.  “Is that enough eggs?”</p><p>“Finish the carton,” Mei suggested.  “Morrison’s always a bigger eater than you remember and Xombi and Minion are still here.”</p><p>“True.”  They quietly finished making breakfast and were setting the table when the runners filed into the kitchen.  They easily started to take over, serving each other and pouring drinks for the others.  Many of them greeted Siebren, asking how he was.</p><p>“Everyone,” Siebren said quietly, and they looked up.  “I know there’s some concerns about my mental health, that brain surgery can cause changes to personalities.  But I feel fine, so much better than I used to.”</p><p>“You slept for five days, doc,” Lúcio said and speared some toast with a fork.  “Good rest will do that for a person.”</p><p>“That explains the hunger,” he muttered as he spooned some yogurt into a bowl. </p><p>“Siebren, I need to apologize to you,” Morrison said quietly.  “I didn’t realize that the shoes and the helmet would affect you so poorly.”</p><p>Siebren nodded, not sure what to say. </p><p>Winston had gone over the biometrics with a fine-toothed comb and could trace Siebren’s growing distress.  In hindsight it started with the shoes. </p><p>He had begun disassociating once the helmet had been on, and he realized it had led to the miscalculation of his escape attempt from the hydra worm.  </p><p>“Well, we needed to experiment to learn, didn’t we?” Siebren asked and tucked his feet up into the lotus position again.  “And I honestly didn’t expect that to happen.”  He ran his finger along his sole and winced.  “And about any mental changes that may occur?  There have been many statements from my colleges that I am eccentric and arrogant.”  </p><p>“No, you weren’t arrogant,” Morrison said as he took a bite of eggs stuffed into toast.  “I know your memory is spotty, but do you remember the call to the space station before everything went to hell?”</p><p>“I do, you were there, weren’t you?” Siebren mused.  “They didn’t seem interested in learning about my work.”</p><p>“Athena, do you still have the recording of that call?” Morrison asked, and there was a soft chime.</p><p>“Affirmative, Jack.  I do not have it saved locally, but the call is on file in Watchpoint: Omaha,” Athena said.  Many of the recorded communications were stored in the Omaha watchpoint.</p><p>“Where’s Omaha?” Mei asked.</p><p>“In Nebraska,” Morrison answered.</p><p>“What’s Nebraska?” Baptiste asked.</p><p>“Good question, no one knows the answer,” Morrison joked.  “It’s in the middle of America.  But on the call, you were so excited to talk about everything.  It was actually fun, but the others, well, they said their piece and hung up.”</p><p>“I know I have a tendency to go on, but some of the calls ended very early,” Siebren muttered.  He adjusted his legs under him and settled in a space near Reinhardt.  “I remembered ‘eccentric’ being tossed around again.”</p><p>“Well, ‘eccentric’ is a code word for ‘autistic,’” Angela scoffed.  “You’re not arrogant.  You know what you’re talking about and people can’t stand the fact that someone they perceive as being a lesser creature can be so smart.  That’s not arrogance.  That’s other people being asses.”</p><p>“We were watching an old kid’s show you were on, “Star and Skye,” Lúcio said and gestured with his fork.  “A guest speaker.”</p><p>“I have memories of the show.  There was a puppet!” Siebren said.  He took a long drink of Reinhardt’s coffee.  “I don’t remember much else.”</p><p>Brigitte laughed and dripped honey on her toast.  “You were cute, uncle!” she laughed.  “You were so happy to explain gravity!”</p><p>“Hey, I learned a lot,” Lúcio said.  “You were so happy!”</p><p>“And very enthusiastic!” Baptiste added.  “If that’s the you we get, we don’t mind.  We also don’t mind if we get the salt master from your interview on AANN.”</p><p>“Ah, All American News Network.”  Siebren’s lips curled.  “How I loathe them.  How DARE a company that claims vaccines are Satanic ask me to explain something as simple as gravity to them.”</p><p>Reinhardt tugged him a little closer to kiss his cheek.</p><p>Siebren blushed a little and continued eating.</p><p>It tasted good, for a change.</p><p>He liked it.</p>
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